


Breathe, idiot

by HonoraryFox



Series: TFC Mini fics [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Anxiety, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, I JUST LOVE OUR BOYS THEY GIVE ME JOY, I finished writing it, I lied, JUST, M/M, Panic Attacks, Slight fluff, actually mostly fluff which is not my usual thing, and it's not mostly fluff anymore, but it's not all angst, ish, neil gets better, neil josten is not ok, panic attack coping techniques
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:13:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HonoraryFox/pseuds/HonoraryFox
Summary: Neil knows how to hold his breath. He had been in enough situations that called for it. But Neil did not know that it had turned into a reflex, or coping mechanism of sorts, for when he was uncomfortable.This is how Andrew helps.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a slightly longer/continued version of something I wrote on my tumblr (palmettofoxesthings) with a bit more fleshed out detail.

Neil Josten was used to holding his breath. When someone got too close, when he was hiding somewhere he shouldn’t be, when it was tense and his mother needed to concentrate. Neil was not used to stopping breathing. When he was younger, he would hold his hand over his mouth and nose just to make sure no one could hear him.

He had used it a lot while he lived with his father in Baltimore. When things got a little too rough and he had to get out of the way or walk around with another black eye and maybe a broken finger or two. When he had to hide or he’d be benched in Exy, the only good thing in his little life.

He had used it when his mother had taken him away. When they were waiting in a hallway for some people to move on. Neil hadn’t known who they were then, but now he assumes Moriyama men.

He had used it in a motel room halfway across the country when someone had caught up to them and Mary had pushed him into a closet, handed him a gun, and told him to shoot if he had to. He didn’t have to.

Neil hadn’t had to hold his breath for a while when he got to the Foxes. Not until he got the countdown. Then it was involuntary. He just stopped. And suddenly all the racing thoughts in his head stopped too. He couldn’t have been not breathing for long, and it was the calls of his teammates that pulled him out of it, and he hadn’t realised he’d done it. He knew that the panic had subsided, though, and even if his breathing was a little uneven for a few minutes, it was better than anything else that might have happened.

It started in earnest after Baltimore. No one really noticed it at first, they were used to Neil being a quiet presence in their lives. When he wasn’t dragging the press and giving Wymack endless migraines, anyway. And he only went places with Andrew and the rest of the monsters, mostly to Columbia. He was never really placed out of his comfort zone with the rest of the Foxes, and often Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin were too drunk or hungover to notice anything amiss.

But when something was making him uncomfortable he would hold his breath and wait for it to be over. When someone he didn’t like the look of got too close in public it was like his lungs would just freeze. When he was on a press panel and someone directed a question that was a bit too personal towards them all (and he’d been told not to answer any more questions).

It didn’t take long for Andrew to catch on. He started with furtive looks towards Neil when he couldn’t hear him any more. When he made himself so quiet that Andrew sometimes thought it really had been a hallucination, or that Neil had run off again. It started with him noticing how Neil would stare for a few seconds with shallow breaths and then stop completely.

It started with an offhanded “Breathe, idiot.” across a kitchen table when something on the news caught Neil’s eye. Neil blinked but obeyed, not realising that he had stopped breathing in the first place. He turned away from the news and back to his breakfast. His brow furrowed slightly and in response Andrew turned off the tv. Andrew walked around the table and let his hand hover over Neil’s neck for a moment until Neil showed some sign of permission and Andrew let his hand fall onto the back of Neil’s neck. “Keep breathing.” Andrew murmured into Neil’s hair. Neil nodded. There was more than one meaning there.

Then someone got too close in Columbia. Neil stopped breathing again and pushed himself into a wall, willing the man to go away. He could feel panic rising in his chest and something inside of him told him the best way to not hyperventilate was to just not breathe. And so he clamped his mouth shut and took in a deep breath through his nose. The man was too drunk to notice much at the time, but Neil was not. It took too long for the man to move away but Neil didn’t notice.

And then it was Andrew’s face in front of his, brown eyes staring into blue, Andrew’s hand on the back of his neck, and a word that sounded like white noise for the longest time. “Breathe, idiot.” Neil sucked in a breath and Andrew pressed their foreheads together. Andrew pushed his other hand over Neil’s heart, feeling Neil’s heart like it was trying to pump itself out of his chest.

It was Andrew forcing his breathing to be audible over the music for Neil to follow along to. It was feeling Neil’s heartbeat slow, gradually, back to its normal pace. And then Andrew was guiding him back to the table, his hand on the back of Neil’s neck all the way and the other acting as a barrier to keep people away.

It was dark nights when nothing could exhaust Neil enough to turn off his brain and the memories it was throwing at him. When he had been for a run. And then a bit further. When he had been on the Exy court for hours trying to exhaust himself into oblivion. Trying to rid himself of the images he saw every time he closed his eyes. It was Andrew watching, knowing, waiting for Neil to give up and go to bed anyway. It was Andrew knowing when Neil needed him but couldn’t say it himself.

It was when, in the dark, Neil curled himself under his covers and stopped breathing again. When all the thoughts in his head raced and he couldn’t quite hear them all but whichever one was the loudest that time was shouting and screaming at him and he just needed it to stop. So he stopped.

It was Andrew crawling under the covers with him, a hand over Neil’s heart and the other on the back of his neck. The repeated word. “Breathe.”

It became routine for them. Speak, neck, heart until something got through to Neil and made him breathe again. It was the assurance that came with the touch, the word. It was the way that Andrew could cut through Neil’s defences when all Neil wanted to do was put up his walls. It was the way Andrew looked at him. It wasn’t pity, it wasn’t empathy, but it was something that made his heart swell because Andrew cared. Andrew grounded him.

“Breathe,” then a hand on the back of his neck, a hand over his heart, and Neil knew he was safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prefacing this with some of these techniques are from online sources such as Mind and NHS that I have used and don't always find entirely helpful but others might, some of them are just ones that I've found help me and aren't necessarily strictly following what these say but are still a kind of grounding technique, just not a sort of 'in the moment' grounding technique I guess.

Betsy Dobson was surprised when Neil showed up with Andrew one day during his second year but she took it in her stride and offered them both cocoa. Neil declined, as he always had whenever he saw her, and Andrew had his with cream and marshmallows. She smiled at the boys and waited for them to make themselves comfortable before she spoke. She noticed Neil shifting every few seconds on the couch, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his hands. She noticed Andrew placing his hand on the back of Neil’s neck and for a moment it relaxed him. For a moment.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing two of my favourite players?” Bee asked when it became clear that neither boy was going to speak first. Andrew shot Neil a pointed look which Neil studiously ignored in favour of watching his fingers tap against the side of his thigh. He didn’t want to be there.

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked. Neil flinched a little at the question. Did he want Andrew to stay or go? He had been getting better with trusting people, he really had, but he didn’t know how vulnerable he could make himself in front of one person, let alone two. Even if one of them was Andrew. Neil started jiggling his leg up and down when he couldn’t decide. Bee looked to Andrew who nodded and left the room. He didn’t understand what Neil needed, he knew what worked to bring him back, but he didn’t know what he needed not to get there in the first place. If Bee thought it was best that he left, then he would leave.

Bee moved from behind her desk to the couch next to Neil. She smiled at him but kept her distance, letting Neil decide how close they were going to be.

“David says practice is going well.” Bee commented. “What do you think of the freshmen?”

Neil considered for a moment, he wasn’t sure what Bee was doing, but it wasn’t asking him about feelings yet.

“They have potential.” Neil muttered. “Kevin thinks they’re already improving but I don’t know.”

“Hm.” Bee got up to put her mug in the sink. “What about Dan?”

“She’s confident that we’re going to be fine when she’s gone.”

“And you?” Neil tensed. He didn’t want to talk about this subject. His tapping got faster against his leg and he pushed himself further into his seat.

“I think Dan has good judgement.”

“I see. Do you know why Andrew wanted you to come today?” Bee asked gently. Neil shrugged. “He called me. Or did you ask him to?”

“No.” Neil said.

“Ok.” Bee was sure Neil was answering her second question, not her first. They sat in silence for a while, Bee knew she had to work for Neil to trust her enough to open up. From what little Andrew said, Neil hadn’t really opened up to him about what caused him to panic, and while Andrew had found a way to bring him back, he knew that he was out of his depth with preventing it in the first place.

“I think the Trojans are our biggest threat this year. Jeremy has apparently really upped their training regime.” Neil offered. It was a safe topic, one he could control.

“I suppose that means you’ll be changing yours as well then?”

“I’ve been talking to Dan about it. She doesn’t want to push the freshmen too hard but they seem eager. I think I might get her to agree to it eventually.

“I assume Kevin is pushing for this as well?”

“Anything that means more time on the court is Kevin’s dream. Andrew is not so happy about it, though.”

“I’d imagine not.” They continued chatting about Exy for another half hour before Bee smiled and mentioned their time was up. “Before you go, Neil, I want you to try something for me.”

Neil froze with his hand halfway to the door handle. He turned to face Bee.

“If you ever feel like everything is too much, try focus on one thing. A sound, maybe, or touch something. Think of every way you could possibly describe it. Focus on that one thing and let everything else come back slowly.” 

“Ok.” Neil nodded but that was about as much as he could mange to say to Bee, and he left.

He didn’t say much to Andrew for the rest of the day, or the rest of the week. Andrew gave him his space, he didn’t see the quiet anger bubbling under the surface. Andrew dropped Neil off at Bee’s the next week and their session went much as it had the last time. With Neil avoiding anything real and Bee letting him. After the third week Neil decided he had had enough.

“Time to go.” Andrew said. He had the car keys in his hand and a coffee in the other. 

“No.” Neil said. He was still wearing his pyjama trousers and a loose t-shirt. 

“What do you mean, no?”

“I’m not going.” Neil shrugged and grabbed the laptop.

“Neil.” Andrew said.

“Andrew.” Neil challenged, his eyebrow raised and already logging onto the computer.

“Why.”

“I’m fine.”

“I thought we’d talked about that word.” Neil rolled his eyes.

“I’m good.” He tried. “All we talk about is Exy stats and I already do that with Kevin.”

“You’re not good.”

“I am. it was just a temporary thing. Gone now, all fine.”

“Neil.”

“Leave it.”

“No. Things like that don’t just magically go away. They disappear for a while sometimes, but they don’t just go away.”

“It’s been four weeks.” Neil said. Four weeks since Andrew had seen him panic, at least.

“And it could happen again tomorrow or in another four weeks. You need to deal with this.”

“There’s nothing to deal with.”

“Why are you being so difficult?”

“Why are you being so pushy when I’m telling you that I’m perfectly fine?” Neil snapped. “It’s none of your business so you can just drop it and walk away, yeah?”

“No.”

“Fine. Then I will.” Neil got up and stalked out of the room. He could feel something rising in his throat, and, like he said, it _had_ been four weeks that Andrew knew of, and he wasn’t going to break that now. Neil sprinted away from the Tower and to a park nearby. It was early enough in the morning that there were very few people there. He kept moving until he found a secluded spot and dropped down by a tree. He felt himself shaking and his heart racing, but he tried to convince himself that it was just from the running.

He let his back fall against the trunk and closed his eyes while he tried to catch his breath. Every breath he took felt like it wasn’t enough, felt like it wasn’t really pulling any oxygen into his lungs. He screwed his face up and tried to reign it in. _Come on,_ he yelled in his head, _just fucking breathe, it’s not that hard._ But still he could barely make more than the smallest, sharpest inhale. His heart rate had increased beyond what it was from the run and it was all he could hear. Panic ceased his mind so he could barely think straight and then shallow breaths stopped and there was no breathing at all.

Blindly Neil reached around him for something to focus on, something to lay his hand on. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Bee’s words from weeks ago. _Find it_ , his brain screamed, _focus on it._ Neil found the rough tree bark eventually and ran his hand up and down it. It didn’t move or bend under his touch, it was strong and solid and immovable. Neil tried to focus on that. 

“Breathe.” He gasped out and his body complied. It was still shaky and shallow, but it was better than nothing. In time, Neil opened his eyes and he turned to the bark on the tree, focusing on how it looked as well as how it felt. Something to ground him in the moment and not let him fall victim to his own mind.

It took longer than Neil would like to admit, but his ragged breaths eventually evened out and his mind stopped racing. The rest of the tree slowly came into focus, as did the grass and the sky. He didn’t feel up to moving at that moment so he stayed there a while until he felt some energy come back to him.

The walk back to campus felt like a lifetime. Part of him was glad for that. He didn’t want to face Andrew, he felt weak and vulnerable and he knew he would break or snap at the smallest provocation. He just wanted to sleep. There wasn’t time for that, though, practice was starting within minutes of him getting back to his room and he barely had time to shower and change when he was on the court wondering how he’d got there. He didn’t remember the journey at all.

He didn’t shower at the court. He waited till he was back at his room instead. Andrew seemed happy to just not speak to him for the moment and Neil wasn’t going to complain about that, so he locked himself in the bathroom and took a long shower. Every part of him was tired but he still had work he needed to do for classes, so a hot shower was going to have to wait and Neil turned it down as far as it would go, hoping the shock of cold would wake him up.

It did, and with a double espresso he managed to make it to his classes and start on his assignments. By the time he went to bed he couldn’t remember feeling more exhausted since he stopped having to hide from his father. Every part of him ached and his head was thumping so fiercely against his skull he couldn’t help but wonder if it was trying to split it open. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago Neil realised when he saw the clock read 03:37. He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. The morning was going to be there soon anyway, what was the point in going to bed, he might as well get some more work done.

Neil refused to go see Bee again the next week and was getting better at recognising the signs before he got completely out of control. Sometimes he could stop it before it really reached anything bad, others he would lock himself in the bathroom.

“Why are you trying to hide them?” Andrew asked. Neil froze on his way to the door.

“Hide what?”

“The panic attacks.”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“Go talk to Bee.”

“I’m fine.”

“Say that one more time, Josten, I swear…”

Neil didn’t go see Bee that week either. He did do some research into panic attacks, not that he wanted to admit that was what was happening to him because it just _couldn’t_ be ok? He’d spent years running from a known mad-man and he’d been _fine_ and he was not going to be brought down by something as useless as panic attacks now he was safe. No, these weren’t panic attacks, he was just tired and they’d go away. Still, he did some research.

Everything he read seemed to be about touching or smelling something but he’d found that touching something, like the tree trunk, had proved to be not so effective the second time around. Neil thought that ‘breathing slowly’ was especially useless advice considering that was what he was trying to accomplish using the other things and so shouldn’t be a technique itself. He remembered how Andrew’s voice could pull him back sometimes, and if not then his touch could, but he couldn’t tell Andrew how bad it was. He couldn’t ask him to keep being there when Andrew had a life to live too. No, he would find another way.

It was 2 in the morning when panic gripped him, out of no where, he felt the world tilt and could barely stumble to the couch so he didn’t fall over. He let the couch cushions support every inch of him while he fought to find his breath that was stuck in his throat. No one was awake, he had to sort this alone. He couldn’t have told anyone how long he curled up on the couch, searching for some kind of way to control his breathing. He clutched a cushion close to his chest and pushed him mouth against it to stop making any noise. The restriction of oxygen did make him breathe a little deeper, but he was still getting the same amount as he was with his gasping breaths, probably less, and he didn’t want to suffocate.

He felt dizzy and nauseous after a few minutes but what felt like a lifetime to Neil. He stopped breathing entirely again, it was still his go to reaction, and for a second things seemed to calm a little, he could focus on the feel of the couch under his fingers. But then moment was gone all too quickly and he was gasping for breath again.

He made his way to the bathroom, the nausea in his stomach making him worry about being sick on the couch as he seemed to feel it rising to his throat. Neil couldn’t remember a time he had felt more miserable, more scared, more alone. He fingered his phone in his pocket. He could just call Andrew, he would pick up and he would talk to him. He would help, Andrew would help. Neil pulled the phone out of his pocket but at the last second threw it across the bathroom instead. He couldn’t call Andrew. There wasn’t a bone in his body that could call Andrew.

_Useless, useless boy,_ his mind was telling him, _can’t deal with your own bloody problems_. It sounded suspiciously like his mother, but Neil ignored that in favour of scrambling for his phone again, before deciding for a second time that he couldn’t do it.

He was dry heaving before he knew to even try to stop it. Shivers wracked his body and he couldn’t grab onto a single thought to try to focus his mind. His hands gripped the porcelain with a white knuckles until the nausea passed.

“Run, little boy.” Neil tried to gasp out. It was the first thought he’d been able to hold onto. “Don’t be afraid, there are no monsters coming your way.” Neil’s voice was shaking, shuddering, and mostly not even a whisper. “Run, little boy, through the fields and the trees. Run, little boy, run away with the fairies. Don’t try to hide, don’t turn back, run with the little fairy pack.” It was all Neil could remember of a lullaby his mother used to sing to him. He knew there was more to it than that. But he kept running through those lines until he had his breathing back under control and he could sing the lines with the pauses at the right time. His voice was still not much more than a whisper, but that was by choice.

Neil slumped against the shower when he realised it was finally over, that everything was ok and he’d made it through. But there was no part of him that wanted to go through that again.

He found himself knocking on Bee’s door a few hours later.

“Neil, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?” Bee smiled. Neil swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped into the office.

“Touching something, it’s not working,” His words were a little disjointed but Bee just smiled at him and gestured for him to sit. “I still get-“ Neil stopped. He couldn’t say it, even if in his heart he knew it. Bee put a hand on his shoulder and guided him over to the couch.

“It’s ok. We’ll find something that does."

Neil only stayed with Bee around fifteen minutes. She spent the time talking Neil through different grounding techniques that she had found other patients had responded to. Her first suggestion had been to count three things you can see and try to say them out loud. Once he’d done that, she said three things he could hear, then three he could touch. She said some people might say five, but she preferred to ask him to start small. It was hard to get a grip of a grounding technique to begin with and failing to find five things might make it worse.

“Andrew used to help. He’s talk and then he’d put his hand on the back of my neck and…”

“Does he not anymore?” Bee asked. She would be surprised if Andrew had stopped helping Neil. Neil shook his head. “Do you know why?” Neil nodded. “Can you tell me?” Neil pursed his lips for a moment and slowly nodded while his leg bounced madly.

“I stopped letting him.” Bee didn’t say anything to that, she just waited for Neil to continue. “I started leaving the room or saying I was going for a run when I started recognising the signs.” Bee nodded at him, no judgement. “I didn’t want to make him do something he didn’t want to.” Bee smiled, but there was a hint of sadness behind it.

“No one can make Andrew do something he doesn’t want to. But I understand, it can feel impossible to ask for help, especially from those closest to you.” Neil nodded. “But I am sure that they want to be there to help you. We don’t need to talk about that now, though. When you’re ready we can. For now we’ll try to find something more practical to help you, is that ok?” Neil nodded again. That was definitely ok. “Good. So, if three things doesn’t work, you might find that picturing a safe place helps, or talking about a happy memory, even to yourself. Anxiety and panic attacks can be rooted in feeling insecure or exposed in a situation, a safe place might help counteract that if you feel you have a strong enough image of it, and a happy memory might help take you out of the situation you’re in and give you something new to focus on. Think about it like you’re telling a story, talk it through. That can be with yourself or with someone else. I suppose it focuses less on grounding you in reality and more on combatting some of the feelings you might be having.”

“What about singing?” Neil asked tentatively. Bee’s face brightened as she nodded.

“That can work.” She said. “Have you tried it?”

“Last night. Nothing was working and it was the only thought I could really get hold of.”

“Well then you can certainly keep using that. You have to understand that not everyone finds the same tools useful, and what works for one person might not work for another. So if you find something that helps you that is healthy, then you keep doing it and no one will judge you for it.”

“Thank you.” Neil whispered.

“Any time.” Bee placed her hand on top of Neil’s. “Your leg stopped bouncing.” She told him. Neil looked down and noticed that it had.

“Huh.” Neil said. He stared for a moment and then looked back to Bee.

“Anxiety isn’t unusual, Neil, and it isn’t something you have to face alone, either. I have an appointment in a few minutes, but can I expect to see you next week? I kept your slot open and I’m sure Andrew would be happy to bring you.”

“I, uh, I’ll think about it.” Neil mumbled.

“Then that’s progress already. Have a nice day, Neil.”

“Bye.” Neil said and left. He wandered around for a while before he made his way back to see Andrew at the Tower. He was grateful for the suggestions Bee had made, but her using anxiety had set him on edge. He was _fine_. He didn’t have a mental health issue, he just _didn’t_ , and Bee suggesting that he did when he was _fine_ he was just struggling a little at the moment wasn’t something that sat well with him. By the time he made it back to the Tower he had gone from ‘on edge’ to almost furious.

“Bee says I have anxiety.” Neil growled at the room, expecting it to only be Andrew and forgetting, in his anger, to check that fact.

Aaron snorted. “Well that’s not a surprise.”

“Not helpful.” Neil snapped back.

“What? It’s not. Anyone with eyes and five minutes in a room with you can see that.” Aaron shrugged.

“Not. Helpful.”

“Well we all knew, whether you want to hear it or not.”

“Well I don’t so shut up.” Neil snapped.

The room went silent for a second. Neil looked around and saw that along with Aaron and Andrew being in the room, Kevin was as well, though Neil was hoping he was too engrossed in the Exy game he was watching to be paying attention.

“Why are you here?” Neil asked.

“It’s my room?” Aaron ventured. Neil glared at him but had to concede his point.

“Whatever.” Neil muttered and pushed past Aaron towards Andrew. He motioned for Andrew to follow him and shut the bedroom door behind them.

“You went to see Bee.” Andrew said.

“Shut up.” Neil paced in front of the bed that Andrew was sitting on. “Yes.”

“What happened?” Andrew was the picture of patience and it just served to frustrate Neil more.

“Why do you care?”

“Because.” Andrew shrugged. Neil ran his hands through his hair and kept pacing.

“I had a- a thing last night and I couldn’t stop it like the others.”

“I thought you said you’d not been having them.”

“I lied and you know it. Moving on.” Andrew threw his arm out to stop Neil in his tracks. 

“If we’re having this conversation, I’m not watching you pace the whole time.” Andrew gave him a flat look. Neil glared for a minute but relented. He tapped his fingers against his thigh instead. Andrew frowned at the offending fingers. “Yes or no?” Andrew asked. Neil looked confused so Andrew raised his hand towards Neil’s neck. Neil swallowed, this was what he wanted to avoid, making Andrew do things for him. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Neil dropped his head forwards and moved his elbows to rest on his knees while Andrew slid off the bed and knelt in front of Neil and put his hand on the back of Neil’s neck. He felt Neil relax somewhat, but he was drumming his fingers together in his lap now. Andrew moved his other hand to Neil’s heart and pushed his forehead against Neil’s.

“Talk to me.” Andrew said. There was a tenderness in Andrew’s voice that only Neil ever got to hear, and it was not very often. Neil took his own hand and put it on top of Andrew’s against his chest.

“I didn’t want to make you do this.”

“No one is making me do anything.” Andrew frowned.

“It just made me feel so weak and stupid and angry and I-“ Neil tried to blink the tears out of his eyes. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel obligated to… to…”

“To touch you.”

“Yeah.” Neil whispered.

“Is that what helps the most?” Neil shrugged at the question. “Talk to me, junkie.”

“Yes. And your voice. But I don’t know if that’s just you or any voice.”

“Ok. What else?’

“What else?” Neil repeated.

“Yes. What else helps?”

“Um, I don’t really know. Bee suggested trying to focus on something I was touching a while ago but that didn’t really work out. I was- I sang last night. It made me breathe at the right points and eventually I got it back under control and then everything else started to stop.”

“Everything else?”

“Shaking, nausea, racing thoughts.” Andrew nodded and waited for Neil to continue. “Bee gave me some more ideas today but I don’t know if they’ll work yet.”

“That’s fine. We’ll figure them out.” Something heavy lifted from Neil’s chest at the pronoun. We. It felt like a dream. It was still hard for him to believe that there were people that thought of him as a ‘we’, as a part of a group. Let alone as a ‘we’ that they wanted to help. Neil couldn’t stop the tears then. Andrew ran his thumb in circles over the back of Neil’s neck. “Get some sleep, junkie, you look like hell.” Neil hiccuped a laugh but made no protest. “I’ll take you to Bee next week.” Andrew said without prompting. “Everything is going to be fine.”

Neil felt, not happy, but happier. He knew it wasn’t better then, but it would be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Aaron's reaction is rather dick-ish but also how literally everyone reacted to me when I told them. And I kind of don't blame them because it was obvious (also they weren't quite so dick-ish but certainly didn't help in making me want to accept it) but at the same time I did really not like them for it and it made me pull away a bit. There are certainly better ways you can phrase the same thing or just reacting entirely differently would not be a bad thing. Especially if it's over text/internet because there's no tone there and it can be very stressful.
> 
> Touch is a very big help to me which is why it was a big part of the first chapter, also someone talking to me but these only really work if I'm with another person who knows (which my closest friends do kind of but I've never had the nerve to tell them specifically what helps me because I'm utterly terrified that they'll think I'm ridiculous or something similar. Also I don't wanna pressure them into something I know they don't really like doing if I'm not actually with them). The ways Neil tries to deal with it alone are things I've tried, but as you're going to see, they don't all work for everyone.
> 
> And finally, for anyone reading this who has panic attacks or knows someone who does, I just kind of hope this helps a bit with being able to cope and finding new techniques if something else isn't effective. Look after yourselves <3
> 
> I have one more bit that I want to write for this, which is much more than I ever thought would get written for something that was meant to be a mini tumblr post exploring one way panic could manifest but hey, I'm quite happy about it.


End file.
